Altoona Mirror from Altoona, Pennsylvania on November 6, 1929 · Page 15
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Altoona Mirror from Altoona, Pennsylvania · Page 15

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Wednesday, November 6, 1929
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THE AtfOONA MIRROR-WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 6, 1929 THE MAN FROM MOROCCO By EDGAR WALLACE. Copyright, 1925, by The Chicago Dally News Co. r- SVNOPSIS. i James Morlake, U. S. Consulate to Tangier, Has for • ten years been investigating ' the activities of Ralph Hamon. operator of i various non-exlstant companies formed by! his Moroccoan agent, Sadl HaOz. Morlaltc ! suspects Hamon of the murder of Johnny Cornford, who disappeared with 100,000 pounds cash shortly after he left on a trip to Morocco. Hamon, now very rich, Is In love %ylth Joan Creith, and after visiting Crelths at their country estate, Invites Joan and her father, Lord Creith, to use a yacht he-has •chartered for a Mediterranean cruise, saying he has been called to New York and then unknown to Creith plans to go to Morocco Instead. Morlake also loves Joan arftl fearing for her safety near Hamon's friends In Morocco he ships on the yacht as the cook's helper. Tho yacht Is anchored off the coast of Morocco and while the ship's crew and officers were ashore picking up some crates they were Instructed to get by Hamon, the almost desrted boat is attacked by some Moors who try to kidnap Joan. Morlake frustrates their attempt but Is carried off himself before the crew could return. Morlake escapes and makes his way to Tangier where the Crclths are stopping for a few days, only to learn that Joan has been kidnapped. CHAPTER L1I. THE HOUSE OF gADI. Jim had a brief consultation with tho chief of police, before Lord Creith guided him to the spot where Joan had disappeared. "I thought It was here!" He said something in a low voice to the police chief and Lord Creith saw the officer shake his head and heard him say: "I can't help you there. It may lead to serious trouble to me. The only thing I can do is to be on hand if ycu want me." "That will do," said Jim. There was a small door in the wall and to this he went and knocked. After a time the wicket opened and a black face appeared in the opening. "The shereef is not in the house," said the slave in guttural accents. Jim looked around. The police of- licer had withdrawn to a discreet distance. "Open the door, my rose of Sharon," he breathed. "I. am from the basha, with news for the shereef.'' ; The woman hesitated'and shook her head. "I must not open," she said, but there was an indecision in her tone of •which Jim took Immediate advantage. "This message is from Hamon," he said in a low voice. "Go to tho shereef and tell him." The wicket closed. Jim glanced around at the troubled Lord Creith. "You had better join our friend," he said under his breath. , "But if she is there, I can insist Jim shook his head. "The only form of insistence is the one I shall employ," he said grimly. "You should help me greatly, Lord Creith, if you do not interfere." Soon after his- lordship had walked reluctantly to tho unhappy police chief, Jim heard the sound of bolts being drawn,- a key squeaked in the rusty lock, and the gate was opened a few inches to admit him to a familiar quadrangle. He glanced at the ancient fountain, at the untidy veranda and Its faded 'chairs and then, as a man appeared In' the doorway, he walked swiftly across the untidy space and went up ste steps of the veranda in ona bound. . "Sadi Hafiz, I want youi" he said, and at the sound of his voice the man •started back. "God of gods!" ho gasped. "I did not know that you were in Tangier, Milakl!" It seemed that his pale face had gone a shade whiter. "Now what can I da for you, my dear Cap. Morlake?" he said in his excellent English. "Really this' is a surprise—a pleasant surprise. Why did you not send your name—". "Because you would not have admitted me," said Jim. "Where is Lady Joan Carston?" The man's face was a blank. "Lady Joan Carston? I don't seem to remember that name," he said. "Is she a lady-at the British embassy?" "Where is the girl who was lured into this place half an hour ago?" asked Jim. "And I warn you, Sadi Hallz, that I will not leave this house without her." As God lives," protested the fat man vigorously. "I do not know the lady and I have not seen her. Why should she be here, In my poor house, for she is evidently of the English nobility." "Where is Lady Jo^n" Carston?" asked Jim deliberately. "By God, you had better answer me, Sadi, or there will bo a dead man for me to explain." He jerked his gun from hla pocket, and the gleam of It seemed to blind the Moor, for he half closed his eyes and u "'iked. "Thta is an outrage," he said, and, as he grew more and more excited, his English suffered. "I will report Ihls.matter to the consulate " Jim pushed him aside and strode into the flagged hall. A door was on the left; he kicked It open. It was evidently Sadi's smoking-room, for It reeked with the scent of hashish and tobacco. At ona end was an iron circular staircase leading to an upper floor, an incongruous object in that primitive oriental setting. Without hesitation he flew up the stairs, and, with a scream, a girl who was lolling on a lounge jumped up and pulled her veil acrosa her face. "Where Is the English lady?" asked Jim quickly. "Lord," said the trembling girl, "I have seen no Englishwoman." "Who else It here?" He ran across tho half-darkened room, pulling aside the curtaiua of its three sleeping places, but Joan was not there. He came down the stairs to confront the outraged Sadi Hafiz. Jim knew what was going to happen before Sadi fired, for he had committed the unpardonable sin of Invading the woman's apartments of an oriental magnate. "Drop your gun, Sadl," h« said .sternly, "or you die. I got you covered." Sad! flred at the place where Jim had disappeared, and then, unexpectedly, the intruder came into view from behind a pillar, tynd Sadt put up his liands. In another instant Jim was upon him and had snatched his pistol away. "Now," he said, breathing through his nose, "where is Joan Carston." Outside the door was a small knot of frightened servants, and Jim salm- mdti the heavy open doors into' their place and shot the bars. "Where Is Joan, Carston?" "She's gone," said the man sullenly. "You He. She hasn't had time to go." "She was here only for, a minute, then she went Into the Street of the School—there Is a.nother door in thp yard." ' "With whom?" "I don't know," was the defiant reply. Jim towered over him, his hands on his hips, his eyes scarcely visible. "Sadi," he said softly, "do you know Zafuri? Last night he told me that he will have your head because you betrayed him to the government, took money from him to buy rifles and used it for yourself. I will save your life." "I have been threatened before, Mr, Morlake," said Sadi Hafiz, recovering a little of his audacity, "and what has happened? I am still alive, I tell you I know nothing about this lady." "You told me just now she was. In the courtyard and had been taken out of the door into the Street of the School. Who took her?" "As Allali lives, I do not know," cried the man in Arabic, and Jim struck him across the face with the back of his rhand. "You will keep, Sadi Hafiz." Jim turned as he unbarred the doors and flung them open, and he pointed to his throat with a long forefinger. "Zafuri will get you—that Is certain. But more certain than that is that If any harm comes to this lady.i I will find you and kill you inch'by inch." He slammed the door behind him and strode out of the house and Into the courtyard. A brief examination showed him that the man had spoken the truth to this extent, that there was another door leading to the narrow street which Lord Creith had searched. And then he remembered that Joan's father had seen four men carrying a heavy case. He strode into the street and beckoned the policeman. "I want you people to trace four men who were carrying a heavy case up the street of Little Schools. They must have crossed the Sok." The movements of the party were easy to follow. A native policeman had seen them crossing to the Fez road, and load the case upon a light car which had been waiting there all the morning. A . camel driver, who had been resting by the side of the road near 'the car, confirmed this, and said that something' inside the box had moved, and he had'asked the men in charge of the carrying party what If was, and had been told it was a crate of chickens. "Walt here," said Jim. He ran back through the crowd that had gathered in the market and disappeared In their midst. Ten minutes later Lord Creith saw a big car come flying along the road "and Jim was .at the wheel. "I found it outside the Hotel D'An- gleterre;" he said, breathlessly. "God knows who is the owner." Lord Creith jumped into the car. "I'm afraid I can't come with you," said the police officer, who was a Frenchman and regarded all regulations as inelastic. "Beyond here is outside my jurisdiction," " Jim nodded cu.rtly and sent the car flying along the Fez road. The tracks of the motor van were visible for a long way, but ten miles out of Tangier— "There's the car?" said Jim. It was abandoned by the side of the road, and the case was still Intact. Suppose he were wrong, and they were on the wrong track? .His heart grew heavy at the thought. He pulled the car up at the tail of the trolley and leaped on to the float. And then he saw 1 that the box was empty, the lid having been thrown into the undergrowth on the side of the road. Not wholly empty, for in the bottom lay a little .white shoe, and, as he lifted It out, Lord Creith groaned. "That was Joan's," he said. CHAI'TEIl 1,111. THE HOUSE IN THE HOLLOW. Joan Carston was sauntering'behind her father, and had come opposite to the door in the wall, when it opened and she paused to look into the courtyard. The flrst view was disappointing, but the smiling black woman who held the door (invitingly open pointed, as though it was something worth seeing, and Joan, her curiosity aroused, stepped through the doorway. Instantly the door was slammed behind her, a big, black hand covered her mouth, and she was drawn backward against tho gate-woman, who whispered something ilercely in her ear. It was unintelligible, but there was no mistaking the threat. Before she realized what had happened four men', who had appeared from nowhere, closed on her and a scarf was knotted tightly round her ankles, a great wad of cottonwood was thrust Into her face, blinding and stifling her, and she felt herself lifted up from her feet. She struggled, kicking furiously, but it was futile to struggle against those odds, and her terror subsiding, she lay passive on the stone-flagged ground while her hands were bound tightly together. Then she was lifted and she sniffed the scene of cleanw ood. The wool was pulled from her faro and another silken scarf bound tightly round her mouth by an expressionless negro, who pulled the edges of the scarf away so that she could breathe. In another minute the lid of the case was fastened on, and she was lifted irregularly Into the air. She dared not struggle for fear of throwing the bearers off their balance. The alf In the box was stifling; she felt she would suffocate and tried to raise the lid with her head, but it had been fastened from the outside. For an eternity she seemed to be swaying dizzily on the shoulders of the bearers and then there was a little bump, and the box was slid on to a fiat surface. What it was she knew, for she could feel the throb and pulsation of the engines beneath her. The car moved on, gathering speed, and evidently the driver was in a hurry, for he did not slow even over the irregular country road.' Soon she was aching in every limb and ready to swoon. She must have lost consciousness for a while, for she woke suddenly to find herself lying on the side of the road. The trolley and the box had disappeared, and her four captors, whose heads were swathed in scarves, wore looking down at her. Presently one stooped and lifted her to her feet, saying something In Arabic, which sho did not understand. She shook her head to signify her ignorance of'the language. and then she saw the waiting mules. Carrying her in his arms, the big negro sat the girl on a mule and led it down a steep slope at right angles to the road, his companions following. Her head was in a whirl! Sho was feeling dizzy-and sick. To add to her torment her thirst was almost unbearable, bu.t they had not far to go. She saw one of the men, evidently the leader, looking back anxiously and wondered what he feared. If there was a pursuit she must be rescued, and her heart leaped at the thought. The end of her journey, however, was near at. hand. In a hollow was a low- roofed house, surrounded by a high, white wall, through the low gate of which the man led her mule. The courtyard was a blaze of-, aut- unjnal flowers; ihe Inevitable fountain played In the center. She waited while they closed the gates, and then her attendant signaled her to dismount and leading the way to the house, knocked at the door. It was opened immediately, and he pushed her into' the hall. At first it was so dark that she could see nothing, and then there developed from the darkness the figure of a Moorish woman. She was pretty, Joan thought, in spite of the unhealthy pallor of her complexion. Guided by this girl she passed through another door into a long room, the floor of which was covered with shabby rugs, which, with a divan, constituted its furnishings. Banish CHAPPED SKIN I TALIAN HALM Is the Invention of an Internutloimlly-famoufi HiUiitn skin specialist. S5o and OOc bottles. Approved by Good House, keeping. Camilla's favorite for years. Travel size battle FREE. Write Campunu. Corp., 203 Lincoln Way, Butavlu, Illlno'-. • (ampana'f 1 M^ I ^ ilahaix Balm Electrical Treasures . For Every Modern Home JOIN IN THE CHRISTMAS TREASURE HUNT Here's Hoping You Win the Fir^t Prize CNN CENTRAL Light was admitted from windows set high up In the wall, and she recognized the place, from the descriptions she had read, an the harem of a Moorish house. No other woman was In the room, and the girl who had conducted her there disappeared almost Immediately, closing the door behind her. Joan sat down on the edge of the Bettee and dropped her face in '.\er hands. She must face the danger bravely, she told herself, terrible as that danger was. She had no illusions as to what these two attempts on her liberty signified. The first had failed, but now she realized, as she had suspected all along, that the attack upon the yacht at, Suba had been designed for her capture, and was not, as the captain had asserted and Lord Creith' had believed, the haphazard attack of pirates In search of treasure. The abduction had been carried out so smoothly that It must have been planned. $ow did they know she would pass that door? They must have been waiting for days to carry their plot Into execution. And who were "they?" Her head ached; she felt at the end of her resources; and then she sprang up as the door opened and a girl came in bearing a large brass tray containing native bread, fruit, a large crown carafe of water. With this was a chipped cup 1 . "Do you speak English?" asked Join. The girl shook her head. The prisoner tried in French, with no better result. "I cart speak Spanish a little," said the Moorish girl, bu.t though Joan recognized the language, her knowledge was too slight to carry on a conversation, i When she had gone, Joan poured out a cupful of water and drank ,it feverishly. She regarded the fpod'wlth an air of suspicion, and then resolutely broke the bread and ate a little. "Joan Carston," she said, shaking her head, "you're in a very unhappy situation. You have been kidnapped by Moors! That sounds as though you're dreaming, because those things do not happen outside of books. You're not dreaming, Joan Carston. And you may eat the food. I don't suppose they will try to poison you—yet! And If they do, perhaps It will be better for you." "I doubt it," said a voice behind her, and she turned with a cry. A man had come into the room from the far end, and had been watering her for a long time before he madu his presence known. "You!" she said. Ralph Hamon smiled crookedly. "This is an unexpected pleasure," he said. The appearance of the man momentarily stunned her, and then there dawned slowly upon her the true meaning of his appearance. "So it was you all the time?" she said slowly. "And that was why you sent us on this voyage? You were tho other man, on the beach? I ought to have known that. Where Is Jim Mor- lake?" She saw his Jaw drop. "Jim Morlake? What are you talking about? He is in England,^! suppose, under arrest for murder, 'if there I.H any justice In the country. You probably know that your husband was killed the night before you left, and that Morlake shot him." She shook her head, and he was amazed to see her smile. "You killed Farringdon," she said. Capt. Welling told me before I left. Not in BO many words, but he found your footprints on the garden bed." If she wished to frighten him, she had succeeded. That old look she had seen before came Into his gray face. "You're trying to scare me," he said huskily. • 'Where Is Jim Morlake?" she asktd again. 'I don't know, I tell you. Dead, I hope, tho damned Yankee crook 1" 'He is not dead, unless you killed him when you found you had him In your hands." His blank astonishment was eloquent. "In my hands? I don't understand you. When was he In my hands?" "He was the sailor you took from the yacht," she said, "the cook." 'Hell!" breathed Hamon, and took n step backward. "You're fooling me. That wasn't Morlake. It was a sailor a cook." She nodded. "It was Mn Morlake. What did you do to him?" "Damn him!" he snarled. "That swine Zaforl took him away——-" He stopped and changed his tone. "He is dead?" he said. "He was executed by the crew Of the dhow " "You're not telling the truth. You told it at first. Mr. Morlake got away 1" He did not speak. Fingering his quivering lips, he glared at her. "Morlake here! Ho can't bo here; It. Is impossible!" he said. "You'vo Invented that, Joan. I thought ho was miles away. And What did Welling say? That Is an invention, too. What reason had I to shoot that soak?"' "Captain Welling practically told me that you were tho murderer," said the girl with calm malice. He took out his handkerchief and wiped his streaming forehead. "I'm a murderer, eh?" he said dully. "Well, they can only hang me, whatever I. do," and his glance fell upon her. "I was going to tell you something, but you've upset my program, Joan. It is easy to find out whether Morlako is in Tangier." "I didn't say he was in Tangier, I don't know that he is," she said, and for a second his face cleared. "He will come to Tangier," he said, frowning again. "He is not likely to lose much time if he knows you're there. Bit keen on him, aren't you? Lovers! I saw him kissing you fn the wood. I hope he taught you how. Most of you cold whito women haven't learnt tho trick." He bit his lip, and evidently his mind was elsewhere than In that tawdry room. "I'll soon find out If he Is In Tangier," he said, and went out the way he had come, through the little door behind tho curtain which she had overlooked. A few minutes after ho had gone, the Moorish 'girl returned and led her to a room at the back of the house. A brick batH* had been sunk in the floor and the girl signalled to her to undress. Thrown acrosa the back of a rickety chair, Joan saw some garments which she guessed were the costume of a Moorish woman, and at llrst she refused', but the girl pointed significantly at the door; and, guessing tha.t, It she offered any resistance, force would be applied. Joan undressed under the watchful eye of the girl and stepped down Into the bath. When she came out and was enveloped In the wavm towel that the girl had put for her, she saw that her clothes had been moved. "You want me to wear these?" she asked In lame Spanish. / "SI senorlta," said the Moorish girl, and Joan dressed hqrself slowly. The costume was curiously unlike any she had seen (and had worn) at amateur theatricals. There was no tinsel, no glitter of sequins—her first feeling was one of comfort. Only one article of her old attire she was allowed to retain—stockings. Fortunately she had not had far to walk, for he had lost her shop, and though the locking solo was brown with the dust f the Fez road, it was not worn hrough. When she had finished'the 'Irl led her back to the room where he had first been Imprisoned and left er there. It was growing dark when Ralph lamon returned to her. Your unofficial fiancee la In serious rouble with tho Moorish authorities," o said, "but he asked for It! A than vlth his knowledge of the country hould have thought twice before at- empting to- raid the women's apart- nents of a Moorish noble. You will 10 Interested to learn that he was he gentleman who trailed you this fternoon." "Anything you tell me about him nterests me," she said, and his scowl ewardcd her. "I think you.'d better get Into a new ramo of mind, Joan, and readjust •our values," he said. "Big changes ire coming into your life and into nine." He seated himself beside her on the cttec and she edged away from him and finally rose. "I'm going to enjoy the existence hat I've always wanted," he said. 'The dolce far nlcnte of Morocco is u •eal thing; In Italy It Is a phrase." "You don't imagine that you are be- ond the reach of the law?" she asked. "Tho law!" lie scoffed. "There is no law in the hills, but the law of the rifle and the chieftain who happens o be reigning In that particular dls- rlct. Don't you realize that there Is a man in this country called Ralsuli, ,vho has been the law In his own prov- nce for twenty years? My dear Joan," le said blandly, "no country is going ,o war in order to save you from a Ittlo Inconvenience. I am probably rendering you a very great service," ":io went on. "You,are going to know life—the life that In worth the living." "In what capacity?" she asked, looking at him gravely. "As my wife," he replied. "There will be some difficulty about marrying for a year or two, but Moorish marriages are arranged much more easily. You shall learn Arabic; I will be your :eacher, and we will read the poems of Hall/, together. You will look back ultyingly upon the old Joan Carston, ind wonder what attractions nho fount! n life that were comparable with the mpplness " "You talk quite well," she Interrupted him. "Nobody would guess that a BUSINESS and PROFESSIONAL MEN and FIRMS YOU OUGHT TO KNOW I I ALTOONA LEATHER STORE / "Outfitters to the Sportsman" 1509 Eleventh Avenue Altoona Discount Co. 1425 12th Ave. New Auron Bldg. 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Wilson Wall Paper and Paint 1021 Chestnut Avenue ARGENTINA SELLS LAND TO ENCOURAGE BUSINESS BUENOS A1HES, Nov. ti.—In line with a national policy of encouraging the eHtabliuhment of new buwineas en terpriaea unti particularly munufac luring unita, the lef;i«lature of thi province of HucnoH Aires recently ap proved a law authorizing the execu tlvu power of tin; Htute to create ui "iriduatrlal reserve" zone of 400 '•<'!_• lureu near La Plata Thin land woulci be Hold to "pro motera" of new inUu.-Urie.s ul what is regarded us ulmoht a give away price of from 20 centavon to a maximum at 50 centavoa per square metre. man of your Age, and with your curious face, would ever speak of poetry." She looked down at. him, her hands clasped behind her, an obvious interest In her eyes. "You are a remarkable man," she said, emphatically. "I don't know how many murders you have committed, but you have certainly committed one; and probably the whole of'your fortune Is founded upon some horrible crime of that description. It doesn't seei.i possible, does it, that we have that typ*e of person living in the twentieth century? And yet there must; be —oh, a whole lot of people who 'lave committed undetected murders for their own profit." He was speechless with fear and rage. This, to him, was thfe tremendous fact—that she was presenting him as he was, and as now, for the first time, he knew he was. For a man may He to himself and screen his own actions .from himself; so veil his motives, and the sordidness of those motives, that, when they are faithfully described, he stands aghast at tho revelation. "I'm not a murderer," he croaked, his face working convulsively. "I'm not a murderer, do you. hear? I—I am mnny things, but I'm not a murderer." "Who killed Verdie Farringdon?" she asked quietly, and he screwed up his eyes with»an expression of pain. "I don't know—I did, perhaps. I didn't mean to kill him—I meant to— I don't know wha|. I meant. I thought I'd get Morlake. I drove my machine to within three, miles of the village and came the test of,th« foot." He covered his eyes With M« as though shutting out Some horHbIS*. sight. , "D you; how dare you say theStf, things?" he nearly sobbed In his rage., "I'll make you so Interested In yourself that you won't talk about me,, Joan, understand that!" He was abou.t to say something its 1 *, but changed his mind, and, turning"), walked quickly out of the room. She did not see him again that night, but just o.s she was dozing on the dlvartr she heard the door open and, sitting up, saw the Moorish girl carrying & long blue r.loak over her arm. Without a word she ,put it about Joan's shout- ders, and she knew that the second stage of her journey had begun. Wither would It lead. In her faith that it would lead to Jim Morlake, she • went out, impatient to resume th* Journey. The bottom of Lake Superior, which is 1,180 feet below tho surface In some places, is 578 feet below sea level. PARING KNIVES BUTCHER KNIVES Keen Kutter Is Your Guarantee of Quality S. J. Wolf Hardware Co. 1712 llth Ave. Phone Z-70*t 'c challenge tne world to find a. Finer Flavor WhiteHouse Coffee Tune in every Monday night on the White Home Coffee Radio Concert at 8.30 on KDKA r° lw UNNYBROOK EGGS are, I The Time-Control "Plan which governs the handling nnoV sale of A&P perishable foods, controls Sunnybrook April K|;|»s under .refrigeration, and speeds then) after leaving refrigeration to your A&P Store, lis influence is apparent in the quality of Sunnybrook Storage Pgi^. Spring is the busy season for egg laying. That is when eggs are largest, most plentiful, and have the finest flavor. During Fall and Winter eggs are not up to April quality. 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